February 15, 2018

This week was our first Valentine's Day with kids in preschool, and when the lists came home with all the students' names on it for "optional" valentines, I knew we were in for it. Of course they're not really optional...who wants their kid to be the only one who shows up empty handed? Although, they are 2 and 3 years old, so it's not like any of the kids would notice if they are one valentine short of the class total; but the teachers would...

A few days before the big due date, I ran into some parents with similarly aged kids in a different preschool. They explained how their daughter's class had gone all out with valentines, spending lots of money and leaving the homemade crafts they had made at the bottom of the barrel. "And Christmas presents for teachers..." they lamented, "Forget it! Parents were spending $20-$30 on gifts!" My eyes got wide as I gazed into the future of pressured giving. Not that I don't want to be generous with my kids' teachers (I'm married to a teacher after all), but there has to be a line when you have 3-4 teachers, right?

I'm not trying to be stingy. I think to me the whole problem with all of it is that these are simply societal pressures, which I'm not sure we're meant to adhere to. This isn't the first time we've experienced this obviously; even as parents, you're told what to do with your child before he or she is born. You then spend the next three or four years learning to ignore those pressures, and just when you start to get a hang of it, your kid goes to school and a whole new set show up. Dance lessons, uniforms, instruments, private coaches...I foresee a future of heavy spending on things that don't really matter, mostly to keep my kids competitive with their peers; to keep them from being the "weird kid."

A cacophony of pink.

But what's wrong with that? I think weird kids change the world in ways normal ones don't, and maybe can't. In hindsight, our massive tendencies to be normal hinder us from embracing what makes us special, and even though I can see how little "normal" actually mattered in middle school, as an adult I still struggle with it. I'm growing of course -- I mean, I'm a stay-at-home dad in the South who still skateboards and tries to write stuff for a living; how could I not get good at being different? But it still a pushing against the tides of culture and will inevitably be difficult at times.

I handed the Valentine's Day project over to my wife, who is infinitely more crafty than me. (Though I did try my hand at a couple valentines...and they were terrible compared to hers!) She showed up with beautiful handmade valentines that were fabulously received. It did cost a little more money than I would have liked to spend on something that will likely be thrown away before the week's end, but I was proud to not have a generic, store-bought superhero or Disney character valentine with a taped on lollipop (no judgement if that's what you made).

But what I wonder is, how long can we sustain homemade (valentines, Halloween costumes, toys) before the kids want something more? Something mainstream? I guess all I can really do is try to foster a fun home of creativity and hope it catches on. If not, we'll just take Frozen sneakers and Nintendo whatevers out of their college fund to teach them a lesson...

February 12, 2018

Cleaning up toys has long been a battle in our household. I have a vivid memory of a one-year-old Ellie throwing the most massive tantrum she ever had over not wanting to pick up her things. Crying and flopped down in the hallway, she relentlessly held on to her conviction, whether or not it was valid. Now I have volunteered in enough K-6 Sunday school classes to have a healthy dose of distaste for when kids don't pick up after themselves. "That's not my mess," is the most common excuse for laziness -- and so I fervently want to instill a sense of personal responsibility in my own kids, which is easier said than done.

As they have aged, it certainly hasn't got better. We have tried taking away toys and making them earn them back with chores, to little avail. Not letting them watch TV until everything is cleaned has worked most recently, though I can see this fading. Today there was a mess of puzzles that have been on the ground for three days, and I was fed up. (Sometimes our lives are a bit busy, and we can't make sure the house is clean every night before bed, though that is our ideal.)

"Waverly made that mess," Ellie told me, to my chagrin.

"I don't care, you played with them too so clean them up or I am giving them away." Threatening to toss toys works pretty well as Ellie suddenly freaks out and loves dearly any item headed for the trash can. (I can't say I enjoy this toddler materialism in her, but we will fight one battle at a time...) She cleaned a little, then piddled about. I gave one more warning (I give too many warnings). She did the same.

"Okay, that's it. Puzzle is gone," I said as I proceeded to silently put all the pieces in a bin and take them away. Tears and begging ensued, but I had had enough. The problem with instances like this is that you always doubt yourself as a parent. Am I scarring my child? Will she even remember she has a puzzle tomorrow? Is this helping? Thoughts like this usually soften my heart and I give one more chance, but not today. In minutes the puzzle was gone and Ellie was on the floor in the hallway crying.

I let her work through it for a couple minutes before I hugged her and ensured that it is indeed very sad to lose toys (a Love and Logic thing). We talked a bit and she calmed down. And then, after it was all over, something changed in her. She was kinder, cared more, cleaned well and led Waverly in doing the same. She knew I was finally serious about getting rid of her precious toys, and the threat fulfilled actually worked! Also, the struggle we went through together seemed to bond us, like two kids who get in a fight at school and are best friends after it's all over.

I wanted to share this with you, parents (or not), so that if you are afraid of harming your children with some discipline -- don't be. That feels a little silly writing it out, as if I am a total pushover parent (I hope not). But I want to encourage anyone else who goes through internal doubt that your harsh reactions can reap benefits beyond the trials. Follow your instincts and know that it is your job to do so, motivated by love, resulting in a child that becomes a productive member of society...and picks up her toys.

February 5, 2018

I went to our most frequented park recently for a rare afternoon playtime with the girls. A different crowd populates the park in the early evening, so I was seeing another side of our all-too-familiar play place. Most notable was a boy on a massive electric four-wheeler and his dad on a smaller scooter, zipping in like a tiny gang of cowboys. The girls kept playing, but eventually caught sight of the vehicles and came over to ask, "Daddy, can I see that boys truck?"

I had an immediate flash-forward to a teenage Ellie asking to go for a ride in an unknown adolescent boy's giant pickup truck, and suddenly broke out into a cold sweat. The idea of her hanging with boys is a strange one, but something I must get used to nonetheless, and so I said, "Sure." Like a good father, though, I went over to meet the boy behind the truck, and his father who obviously paid for it.

The kid ended up being super nice, and let Ellie and Waverly ride around in the Home Depot dump truck for a long time; long enough to probably kill the battery (I hope they made it home). Meanwhile, the boy showed off on his super cool powerslide trike, kicking around grass like it ain't no thang. I talked with the dad and he was a nice guy about the same age as me. The conversation turned to where we lived, housing and his neighborhood verses mine. "We love our neighborhood," he said, "Nice, quiet, safe...all white." He leaned in a little and got quieter for that last part.

I didn't quite know how to react or respond. My eyes probably got wide as I tilted my head back in a little gesture of surprise. He quickly moved on, probably gathering that I didn't exactly share his views. The rest of the conversation went pretty normal, but as the evening progressed I couldn't stop thinking about that phrase, "All white."

That night Katie and I watched Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, which is a show on Netflix we've been getting into that I just love. The episode we watched had Trevor Noah, and in it he described what it was like growing up in Apartheid. Not that long ago (within my lifetime) he suffered under extreme racial segregation, to the point that his parents (a biracial couple) had to hide their love for each other from the government. As we watched, I couldn't believe that something like that existed in recent history (though I'm sure it still exists in many parts of the world). But then I thought back to the "all white" guy I had just met, and decided that as long as people maintain ideas like that, racism will inevitably carry on.

During our conversation, as he and I had compared neighborhoods, mine having gone through some gentrification over the past fifteen years or so, he told me a story of how he used to lifeguard at the public pool on my road, a "black" park in a "black" neighborhood. He told me that in his first week of working there as an impressionable teenager, he had two stabbings come into the pool from the locals on the adjacent basketball court. I'm sure this experience of seeing what happens in such a neighborhood, coupled with some familial imposition, helped to solidify his current racist views. Having grown up seeing some of the same things, I can understand where it comes from.

But as long as this segregation exists in our minds, atrocities like Apartheid are totally feasible realities that will continue to plague humanity. Racism is certainly a hot topic lately, having been brought into the light in the last year in a new way. I'm glad all of this is happening though, as we are being shown that there is a lot more muck going on under the surface than we realized. And when I see the same thing at a local church park, talking to a seemingly reasonable contemporary, I have to conclude that we still have a long way to go...

I've written often that men should listen to the women in their lives. Even as a proponent of this message, sometimes I find myself reluctant to at times. A big example of this in our household is in the arena of kitchen appliances.

One of the first contentions in our marriage was over how many kitchen appliances we have had in our life together. Each of us has attached ourselves to one such appliance or the other -- a rice cooker, griddle, juicer, coffee grinder, blender -- and sometimes the other spouse just wants to get rid of it! Lately, I have been on the side of minimalism, because let's face it: these things take up too much valuable counter space! We live in the biggest place we ever have, and have trimmed down our appliance arsenal, but somehow we still don't have enough space!

And then, in an undisclosed bout of frivolous spending, my wife ordered a rice cooker! After we left our last one in California for lack of use. What nerve!

I questioned her motives, but we are enjoying a more plant-based diet these days, and she thought something to cook large amounts of rice, quinoa, couscous, lentils, etc., would be nice, especially since it had a steamer on top for vegetables (and meat, should we ever return to the dark side). The purchase was made however, and so I reluctantly complied with open skepticism.

Well, it takes a humble man to admit when he is wrong; and I was wrong. That thing is awesome! Like healthy mad scientists, we are mixing and experimenting with different types of grains, all of which are easy to cook in the Oster. We also regularly steam broccoli and butternut squash (amongst other foods), most of which take a while to cook otherwise. The thing is a dream and I have to say, if you don't have a rice cooker/ steamer combo, think about getting one! Here is the one we bought. It is about as simple as you can get, and cooks just about anything well. (Sometimes the rice does burn on the bottom, but perhaps I'm not putting enough water in.)

Lately, I have been pondering and having conversations about the role of women and men in leadership in marriage. I am sad to find that, much of the time, men make decisions, some good and some bad, but largely neglect the input of their wives. As I establish my own role in this regards, and consider where the line between leadership and arrogance lies, I can't help but weigh heavily my wife's opinions. She researches the crud out of everything, and is so often on the side of right in hindsight, that I must take her input seriously.

And so I want to charge you, Reader, to do the same. She might not always be right, but it couldn't hurt to listen and have the humility to accept some change on her behalf. It may just keep you from some massive mistakes. Or maybe you'll just get another kitchen appliance.

From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.

Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!”

Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.”

This is a pretty common verse, but I never caught what exactly Jesus might be saying here. The word "stumbling block" hit me differently this time (as a block of wood might do). Often I read this as if a stumbling block is a thing commonly lying around that you trip over occasionally, a regular part of the household in a regular routine. But think about this: why would anyone willingly have a block of wood in their walkway that they frequently trip over, and not move it?! That is ridiculous. So there may be more to Jesus having used that particular phrase.

It brings to mind this verse from 1 Corinthians 8:9:

Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak.

Paul is talking about Christians using their liberty to eat or drink whatever, while other Christians may find the action a sin. There is a lot of backstory required, but what I want to point out is this second famous use of the word "stumbling block" in scripture. It is the same idea as Peter with Jesus: one "Christian" is doing something that is blocking another brother from progress, in an area that is likely a struggle for the latter. (Not that I am calling Jesus "weak," but just using it as a comparison.)

Jesus seems fairly harsh sometimes in the bible, and this passage is a good example of that. But think about it -- if Jesus was struggling with his approaching suffering (which we know he was, according to Matthew), then Peter struck a negative chord with him. The whole thing brings a level of humanity to our Savior that I appreciate. He struggled, just as we do, and it wasn't always easy for him. But as scripture later points out...

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yetwithout sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16)